


Deliver Me From My Friends

by minkhollow



Category: Harry Potter - Rowling, Neverwhere
Genre: Crossover, Gen, omniocular
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-12-06
Updated: 2008-12-06
Packaged: 2017-10-02 03:31:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 16,008
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2182
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/minkhollow/pseuds/minkhollow
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The veil in the Department of Mysteries holds more secrets than Dumbledore assumed; after it drops Sirius in the middle of London Below, he faces a long road home and a number of new and old challenges.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. How to Disappear

**Author's Note:**

> Veers sharply off-canon after Order of the Phoenix, but it does use a few elements from Half-Blood Prince, later on.  
> Characters and settings variously belong to JKR and Neil Gaiman; I just borrow them out of love (and denial of Death By Drapery).

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Sirius learns the true perils of getting into a battle in the Department of Mysteries, and runs into someone he hadn't expected to see again.

The man fell into the Floating Market - quite literally, narrowly missing the Lady Door and a clutch of Ratspeakers she was negotiating with - from out of nowhere that anyone could discern. He had a death grip on a stick about a foot long and was breathing heavily, as though he'd just had the wind knocked out of him. And on the whole, he looked like he'd seen better days. Better decades, even. 

Door, startled out of her negotiations, turned to the stranger and said, "Are you all right?" 

He held up one hand in a 'just one minute' sort of gesture, eyes still closed. "She only hit me with a stunner, I should be fine--" He opened his eyes, got a good look at the Market, and frowned. "This isn't the Department of Mysteries." 

"No, we're just off Piccadilly Circus. They've put the sideshows away for the duration of the Market, though, you needn't worry." When she got nothing more than a blank stare for her trouble, she added, "You've never been Below before, have you?" 

"Below which?"

"London Below. People usually only react like that when they slip through the cracks." 

"Slip through the..." The man closed his eyes again, looking quite frustrated. "Damn that veil. And especially damn Bellatrix." 

"Bellatrix?" 

"My cousin. She's the one who stunned me, there was a veil in the way..." 

"A veil? That sounds familiar. Here, let's get you up - I can try to help you work out what's happened in a minute, I just need to finish one last thing." 

"Go to it." He kept out of the way while Door finished her negotiations with the Ratspeakers, for which she was immensely grateful. 

"All right. That's my business here done. If we catch the Tube soon we should be able to make the Post Office stop - I've been meaning to go there lately anyway, and we might be able to find some insight into your predicament." 

"I appreciate it. Don't think I caught your name, though?" 

"Sorry, I ought to have introduced myself. I'm Door, of the House of Arch." 

"Sirius. Black. Interesting name, yours," he said, throwing in a bow for good measure - it came off as a mostly successful attempt at being charming.

"As is yours, I have to say. Especially in conjunction with your cousin. When I was younger, there were rumors of a Bellatrix Black attempting to pull over family rank with the Friars. It never worked, of course." 

"...Clearly, I'm missing a few key points to this story." 

Door smiled. "Not to worry. There'll be time to fill you in on the Tube."

***

Sirius had very little experience with the Tube; it didn't figure very largely into wizards' transportation needs. But Door seemed to know what she was doing, and most people, down to the ticket attendants, ignored both of them, so he just followed her. 

"Mind the gap - there you go. Now, how did you end up down here?" 

"It's... something of a long story. There was a duel involved." 

"I'd gathered that much, from your previous comments. As for the story's length, we've a bit of a ride until we reach the Post Office." 

"Fair enough." With that, Sirius helped himself to an empty seat and launched into the story. Since Door had heard of Bellatrix, and since nearly landing on a negotiation was the last thing he'd been expecting anyway, he saw no need to spare her any details. He rather wished the Ministry luck getting down here and successfully Obliviating anyone in the first place. 

"...And you know it from there," he finished, some time later. "Where is here, anyway?" 

"London Below. It's sort of outside reality, but not quite. It tends to collect lost or forgotten things."

"And at a guess, that doesn't bode well for my chances of getting back home, does it?" 

"Well spotted. It's virtually impossible for people without magic. If I remember correctly, though, all wizards are somewhere between here and London Above proper anyway - something about keeping secret from so many people, yet having such strong numbers yourselves." 

"Bellatrix certainly didn't get stuck here, or I'd likely not be in this mess." 

Door nodded. "It'll still be very tricky at best, but you've a better chance of getting back than wholly ordinary people. I don't know much about it myself - it'll take some asking around, and probably a bit of research as well. The Marquis might know something, but he only deals with wizards if he can call in a _lot_ of favors out the other side, and you might not be around long enough for that to be effective." 

"Certainly not if all goes well. It'll be rather upsetting if nothing works, I must say." 

"Anything that might work will take a fair amount of time to sort out, more than likely. But look at it this way - in the worst case, you can start over here with a cleared name." 

There was a slight pause, and then Sirius grinned. "There is that, I suppose."

***

They had to change trains once on the way out of Piccadilly Circus - at Oxford Circus, which Sirius found rather amusing. When he tried to point it out, though, Door didn't comment, other than to tell him not to look at any of the cages, if he could help it. 

Between her aside about Piccadilly's sideshows and Hagrid's penchant for keeping pets only a half-giant would call harmless, Sirius did his best, and came out only mildly disturbed. 

"Right. Where were we headed, again?" 

"The Post Office," Door replied. "I've been expecting something, and now is as good a time to check as any."

"...You're taking the Underground to check your post?" 

"We wouldn't be able to get to the right place any other way." 

In some ways, it was one of the strangest things Sirius had ever heard. But then, he'd just been quite literally stunned into another world. So he shrugged, and decided to go with it for now and see what happened.

The stop they got out at was both bustling and not labeled in any way to suggest a post office was involved. The other people once again ignored them, however, and Door led Sirius down a disused corridor and into chaos. 

The entire room wouldn't have looked completely out of place at Hogwarts, down to the corner apparently reserved for pigeons - even though Hogwarts would have had owls, the mess remained rather similar. Two huge chandeliers kept it lit, though no one seemed to notice or care about the wax drippings. People in all states of dress, to say nothing of smell, were queueing at the wooden counters to subject envelopes, scrolls, and packages to the delivery system, and occasionally haggle with...

"..._Goblins?_" 

Door gave Sirius a slightly confused look. "They're mailer daemons. Some of the mail here was meant to be delivered in London Above, but it disappeared into the post system. The daemons sort it as well as London Below's mail." 

"Oh. That... sort of explains why they look like the bank's goblins." 

"Wizards aren't on the barter system? Interesting." With that, she moved toward the end of the queue, only to be stopped by one of the daemons. 

"Why, Lady Door! To what do we owe the pleasure?" 

"Hello, 404. I was just checking to see if a package I've been expecting had been delivered yet." 

"I can certainly see if it's here, certainly." The daemon started to head for the amassed packages and letters behind the counter, but stopped and considered Sirius first. "Who's this, then? Another Upworlder?"

"...In a manner of speaking," Door replied, before Sirius could open his mouth. The daemon seemed content with that answer, though, and scuttled off to the packages. 

"404?" 

"I haven't asked where his name came from." 

"Ah." 

The daemon returned a few minutes later, with something that appeared to be wrapped in the tattered remains of a curtain. "Your package, my lady."

"Thank you very much, 404." She pulled two old, but apparently clean, handkerchiefs and a small bag of bread crumbs out of one of her jacket pockets and handed them to the daemon, who grinned and scuttled back off to the other side of the counter. 

Sirius waited until they were back on a Tube train to ask the question that had been niggling at his brain since the daemon started talking. "So you're a Lady, then?" 

"My family's had some political influence in London Below for quite some time. I get official visits rather more often than post, but Richard seems to think I need the occasional package." She smiled, almost like she was enjoying some private joke. 

"Well. If I would have known, I'd have bowed properly or something."

"Oh, it's all right. You had no way of knowing." 

Sirius found himself at something of a loss to follow that up, and the ride lapsed into silence aside from the train's noise. Clearly, this London Below thing was going to take some getting used to.

***

That hadn't gone according to plan at _all_. 

Well, the bit where the Potter boy had arrived with only a few sorely undertrained friends at his back had done, Bellatrix supposed, though from there the whole venture had gone pear-shaped. She had no idea who had warned the adults, but perhaps it didn't much matter; they came in and promptly ruined any chance of a clean getaway. 

The brats held their own decently, though it would have been over much faster without the intervention. Bellatrix had been grudgingly impressed by how well her worthless cousin had managed - she would have thought after twelve years in prison and three on the run, he'd be rustier. And she even thought of a way to keep this little raid from being a total loss in the Dark Lord's eyes. If she could stun him and bring him along, they would have some leverage to get the prophecy. The copy in the Ministry couldn't be the only one. 

And they'd have someone to play with in the meantime, of course. It had been too long. 

But when she did stun him, the man didn't have the decency to fall forward or to one side. He fell backward, through the old veil, which meant there was no chance of a kidnapping after they finished. 

It mattered little, on the whole. The veil went Below, so her cousin would be out of the way for quite a while, if not for good; meanwhile, the apparent loss would likely be devastating to the Potter brats, given how he started wailing after the deed was done. And if it got to be too risky for the Dark Lord's comfort to just leave him be, she could always go down herself and have a few words with Croup and Vandemar about finishing the blood traitor off. Perhaps she ought to go soon anyway, and see how the whole Key business was going. 

But Bellatrix had really been looking forward to having a toy to play with.

***

Door had some kind of political deal to look into, so Sirius was on his own for getting to the library after a few Tube stops. He supposed it was a good sign that she trusted him to go it alone, at least for a while. London Below still wasn't what he was used to at all, but he had plenty of practice at keeping his eyes open, and that helped immensely. 

The stacks he was looking for were in the basement, which didn't entirely surprise him, especially given the chance that most of the library probably didn't even know they were there. Unfortunately, the books weren't in any sort of order he could recognize, and he didn't see anything resembling a card catalog. This was shaping up to take quite a while. 

"Looking for something?" 

Sirius froze. He _knew_ that voice, but couldn't think of any reason why he should be hearing it down here. Or at all, considering its owner was supposed to be long dead. He had to turn around to confirm it, but there was no mistaking the face. 

"...Regulus. What are you doing here?" 

"Sorry, have we..." His brother trailed off, frowning, then started over. "Sirius, you look like hell warmed over, what the hell have you been _doing_ the last month?" 

"Month? It's been years. More than a decade."

"Hmm. People said time wouldn't necessarily line up between the two, but I hadn't expected it to matter. How did you get here, anyway?" 

"Department of Mysteries. Wasn't what you'd call a planned vacation - Bellatrix stunned me." 

Regulus snorted. "You and your war effort. I might have expected something like that." 

"And you're one to talk, are you, tossing off your cause and getting yourself killed? Brilliant move, that man." 

"Clearly I'm not as dead as you'd thought, am I? Anyway, you say that like I had much faith in the cause in the first place." 

"You had enough to sign up." 

"That was more out of family expectation than anything. And some vague hope they'd deal with legitimate Ministry problems." 

"Which they didn't, and still don't." 

"No, and I decided I was going down fighting, if at all. By the time they started looking for me in earnest, I'd found someone willing to take the fall, set him up with Polyjuice, and buggered off." Regulus shrugged. "Like I said, it's only been a month or so for me, but I suppose if it's been longer topside, I can assume no one's going to come looking for me." 

"Why would they if they think you're dead?" 

"You need to pay more attention if you haven't heard by now. Bella's been here often enough to make enemies - on that note, you'll probably want to avoid Blackfriars, if you can - so who are we to say she wouldn't think of it and call for a search?" 

"She's completely off her nut. You're assuming anyone would take what she had to say at face value." 

"Of the two of us, I'm not the one who taunted her in the middle of a duel. You're lucky all she did was stun you. Besides, she could have decided to come here on her own." 

"...Must you be so damn sensible?" 

"You're the one who got Sorted into the house of the bold and stupid, not me." 

"And where would you have ended up if you hadn't half been trying to keep our mother from having yet another fit?" Sirius didn't have any proof to back that up, but he'd long suspected his brother's Sorting wasn't an entirely perfect match. 

"...I don't know. None of them ever seemed to fit me, no matter how that bloody hat phrased it. But with my self-preservation instinct, it might have worked out the same." 

"Deciding you want out of something that's next to impossible to leave without dying? This must be some strange form of self-preservation I wasn't previously aware of." 

"Oh, you know what I meant. Anyway, I believe you came in here looking for something?" 

"Right, you did offer to help with that. I'm trying to figure out how to get back home. Door thought there might be something here that would help." 

"And if I hadn't been keeping one ear to the ground, that would sound like you'd gone round the... wait. Are you telling me you want to get back to a war zone?" 

"There are still people there who need me." 

"Maybe you _have_ gone round the bend."

"If I have, I like it there. Now, do you have the first idea how this place is organized, or ought I to figure it out for myself?" 

"...Bloody Gryffindors. Suppose if I don't help you now, you'll just get yourself killed sooner." 

"Give me some credit, will you?"

"Prove why I should. That won't work just because you're older, now." 

When Door finished her negotiations and made it to the library, she found the two of them arguing over a pile of books.

***

"You never mentioned why you look like hell warmed over."

"It's complicated." 

"How else do you expect me to find out?" 

Sirius sighed. "Do you know Peter was acting as a double agent?" 

"I'd gathered. Why, did you do him in before anyone else caught on?" 

"Not yet. James and Lily were in danger, he gave up their hiding place, and they both got killed. Their son survived and discorporated Voldemort, though." 

"Which explains why you're still dealing with him more than a decade later. But why did one of them not take the baby and get out of there?" 

"Couldn't say, but odds are they were panicking. Anyway, I went after Peter the next day, but he blew up half the street and buggered off before I had a chance to stop him. Killed twelve people, and left me to take the fall for it." 

Regulus raised an eyebrow. "Typically reckless of you, at least at the beginning. You might have taken some backup. I have to wonder why the Ministry didn't ask many questions about it, though." 

"Oh, they asked questions. They just didn't ask _me_. After what the other witnesses had to say, they thought they had enough proof to lock me up." 

"Your fearless leader didn't even speak up on your behalf? What a stunning show of support for his volunteers. If Pettigrew's still loose, and from what you said it sounds like he is, how'd you get out of jail?" 

"Magic." 

"Funny man. They confiscate wands anyway." 

"Azkaban has remarkably little preparation for dealing with animals. I've been in hiding for nearly three years now."  Sirius was still rather proud of his escape, all things considered; he doubted the Ministry would believe how he did it, even if he told them.

"...I'll bother you for a demonstration later. If that's all you have to go back to, why are you so keen on it?" 

"We've been over this. There are people who still need me. And a war to fight, though there's not much I can do to that end." 

"You were wrongfully imprisoned and got no help from your cohorts, and yet you still can't see why I wasn't impressed with Dumbledore's line of reason. It must be a Gryffindor thing." 

"Voldemort's a dangerous lunatic. You're the former Death Eater here, you ought to know that better than I do." 

"Yes, but what are you lot planning to do if you manage to take him down? The Ministry's got some real problems with the way it does things. _You_ ought to know _that_ by now." 

Regulus had a point, much as Sirius hated to admit it; he liked lacking a proper answer to the question even less. "No one's really thought it through that far. We've been more concerned with the immediate threat." 

"Not even Lupin's put effort into it? That doesn't sound right. He's had to put up with the Ministry's lack of logic even longer than you. Don't give me that face. The school gave us lunar charts, and he was always doing poorly right after full moons. Anyone could have worked it out. It's a wonder more didn't - but I suppose that would be expecting common sense of my former classmates." 

"...If he has, I haven't heard about it." 

"He probably hasn't, then, at least if you two are carrying on as ever. You likely would have heard it first." Regulus wrinkled his nose. "Change for change's sake may not be the world's best idea, but neither is letting very real problems fester. It's poor planning. Give it another few decades and you'll have some other malcontent stirring up trouble." 

"You say that like you managed perfectly."

"Considering I was in something of a rush, I'd say I held up fairly well. Besides, I wasn't setting myself up for a vicious cycle. I may never understand your rush to dive back into one." 

Sirius sighed. "Well, if no one tells people changes need to be made, how are they ever going to happen? Dumbledore would have tried to effect a change by now if he'd thought of it, so I doubt anyone else has made the suggestion." 

"...You have a point there. I wouldn't count on someone who's already let you down once to get the job done, though."

"Maybe. If you're done picking apart my logic now, I have a question for you." 

"And that would be?" 

"Do you know who we buried thinking it was you? 'We' being my friends and I - Mother couldn't bear the idea of letting a traitor to the cause into the family plot, after Bellatrix made sure she heard about it." 

Regulus blinked. "I didn't catch his name. All I know is he was desperate enough to agree to the idea. Neither of us were expecting enough to be left to _merit_ a burial." 

"It wasn't recognizable, and the burying probably wouldn't have happened if not for our dear cousin's gloating. But at that point... we figured you'd earned it." 

"Well. That's... worth knowing, I suppose."


	2. The Show That Never Ends

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Sirius gets himself into a mess, Regulus helps get him out of it, and Door explains just why Bellatrix has such a bad reputation in the Underside.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> NB: MAJOR SPOILERS FOR NEVERWHERE IN THIS CHAPTER.

This certainly hadn't been part of the plan. Of course, Sirius wasn't entirely sure he would want to be part of any plan where ending up in a cage meant things were going well. 

He'd gotten curious, he had to admit. He wanted to find out what London Below was like through Padfoot's eyes - or nose, more accurately - and no doubt Regulus would take him to task for not being careful enough, at some point, but he'd thought no one would really look twice if he transformed in a semi-public place.  Never mind that he might have known better after Merlin knew how long of keeping the trick a secret. 

The scenery around him now - when he could force himself to concentrate on it, anyway; something in this damn cage was keeping him from changing back to think properly - reminded him a bit of classes at Hogwarts and a bit of the Victorian novels Remus kept reading. There were a couple of amphitheatre sort of things, one of which seemed to be near a main artery of traffic - he didn't know what was on display, but there was plenty of disgust rolling off the passersby. 

And there were more than enough odd sounds and smells to make him quite glad he couldn't properly process them, at least. 

Sirius lost track of time after a while, generally accepting it to be a new day when the apparent caretakers came by with something vaguely resembling food. He wasn't even sure a regular dog would go near it, except out of desperation - and after some time, he did find himself desperate enough to eat it. Fortunately, it didn't seem to have any nasty side effects. 

*** 

There were other people who happened by his cage occasionally. Even as difficult as he was finding it to think, he generally brought himself around enough to pull some meaning out of their conversations.

"Man and beast in one body? A most fascinating find, certainly." 

"If we can discern the cause and add it to our Beast, we'd almost positively have a winner." 

"Some might blanch at the prospect of a Beast that could mingle so easily with the populace." 

"No worse than Croup and Vandemar ever were." 

"I take your point. You might well be on to something, then. If we incorporate this one's abilities, we can take the prize for good." 

"The Circus Maximum?"

"I don't know that that was an entirely appropriate declension, Marlowe..." 

*** 

Not terribly long after that, at least so far as Sirius could tell, the second amphitheatre was in business.

 

"Today, we consider the practical applications of Miss Roberta Jean and her psychotic canaries..." 

He didn't know what exactly was going on, but the center of attention was giving off some highly uncomfortable smells. And the people... the people were taking _notes_. 

Once again, he found himself glad he couldn't quite think properly. 

***

Regulus liked sticking around the library. Sure, he had to venture out on a few occasions to find food, but for the most part it gave him somewhere to stay that held relatively few innate dangers and attracted little attention from others. And when it did get visitors, they were too intent on their research to bother him, more often than not. 

All told, it was perfect for avoiding attention. 

He was considering a book which seemed to have some history of London Below in it, and caught the sounds of someone trying to move quietly by the door. He ignored them for the time being; the book was far more interesting, and they probably didn't want to bother-- 

"Regulus? Are you in here?" 

...Or they did want to bother him. To his knowledge, there were only two people who knew he kept to the library, and whoever was talking sounded far too feminine to be Sirius. 

"That depends on why you're asking." 

"Very funny." There were some footsteps, and then Door poked her head around the corner of the aisle nearest the chair Regulus had settled into. "It's... I think your brother's in trouble." 

"That's little different than his default state."

"Be that as it may, this seems to be..." 

"Serious? Pity there aren't any better words, isn't it? All right, I suppose I should at least find out what he's got himself into this time." 

"One of the Circuses got him. I'm not sure what they're planning to do with him, but since he's not really terrifying enough for either's sideshow standards, I doubt the alternatives are pleasant. And while I could get him out of wherever they're keeping him, that doesn't mean we'd get out alive." 

"I see. Why are you involving me in this?" 

"...Well, you're his brother." 

"Yes, and the past week or so is the most he's talked to me since before we started school. There's complicated family politics behind that. Anyway, I would rather keep myself out of trouble if at all possible, which runs rather contrary to his tendency to rush headlong into danger without asking useful questions first."

Door sighed. "You know him better than anyone down here, myself included. Besides, I think they found out he's related to Bellatrix. After all the trouble she's stirred up, they might get vicious, and it's not much of a leap from him to you, is it?" 

For all Regulus hated going off on adventures - it rarely ended in continued existence for everyone involved - he had to admit Door had a very good point. People with a grudge and a weapon going after him almost certainly wouldn't end any better. 

"How much do these Circus people know about magic?" 

"It's Oxford, and they take a more scientific approach than Piccadilly, so I doubt they'll have taken his wand. However, even with the scientific approach, they have to keep Talents in mind, so it's unlikely he could get himself out." 

"And it's unlikely I could help with just my wand, then." He considered the matter a bit longer, then sighed. "I was hoping I wouldn't have to do this, but we're going to have to go to Kilburn first. Job like this, a bit of professional help at our backs couldn't hurt." 

***

"I've some interesting news." 

"Have you? Out with it, then." 

"I've done some research. I think my find of the other day might be related to that Black woman." 

"...Really? How very intriguing." 

"Perhaps if word reaches her that we have a relation, she shall come to negotiate." 

Sirius, overhearing that in one of his more lucid moments, snorted. If Bellatrix heard he was locked up, she'd be far more likely to offer to help them with their... experiments than try to get him out of there unharmed. 

But he suspected that even if he could tell the men that, they wouldn't particularly care.

*** 

Door had lost track of the conversation shortly after one of the soldiers said, "Ah, the young Caesar's back!"; her Latin wasn't good enough to keep up. But after about ten minutes, Regulus headed back toward her and said, "They'll send four or five soldiers with us, since the most we really need is a diversion. They're drawing lots for it." 

"I never would have thought of asking them. How did you know they were here?" 

"When I first got down here, I wasn't far off. They were more or less the first sign of civilization I ran across. I think they were glad to meet someone who still knows their language, but... well." He shrugged. "You try growing up in a household that expects you'll need Latin as a major part of your adult life and see how long you go without lessons." 

Door nodded. In that respect, at least, it wasn't far removed from her father's opening lessons. "And the Caesar comment?" 

"My first name literally translates as 'little king.' I doubt they took it as metaphor." 

"Most metaphors here _are_ literal." 

"True." Four soldiers broke away from the main encampment and headed toward the pair. "Right. We've got my idiot of a brother to bail out now, it seems. You're the one who knows where we're going."

 *** 

One day, there was a commotion. Sirius didn't pay it much mind, as no one seemed particularly fussed about him, until two people approached his cage. 

"Sirius, this had damn well better be you. Door, if you would?"  All of two seconds passed, and then the cage was open. He blinked once or twice, mostly to clear his head, and got the hell out of there, heading for a clump of bushes that didn't look likely to be poisonous. 

"I do hope someone remembered to bring at least a pair of trousers," he called over after he'd changed; his brother tossed a pair of jeans at him. "Thanks. To both of you." 

"I don't know how you keep getting yourself into these messes. And I probably don't want to, either." 

"Not until later. This doesn't strike me as the place for sarcastic commentary about our formative years." 

"About time you applied a bit of logic to the matter." 

"...Hold on a moment, where did you find _Romans_?" 

Regulus smirked. "That's for me to know and you to find out. Later. If you're polite."

***

After the ordeal with the Circus, all of the word floating around about Bella was starting to get to Regulus. Admittedly, part of the reason he hadn't sought out the whole story before now was because he'd been busy keeping his head down. But this concerned family, and from what Sirius had to say, the Circus people had been quite thrilled to have a Black at their disposal. 

If his brother was going to go about nearly getting himself killed, Regulus thought he ought to at least know why everyone else wanted to help so much. 

It took some doing to get Door to explain, but it helped that the recent mess had piqued Sirius' curiosity as well. Two Blacks always had been better than one in waiting out someone withholding information.

When she finally agreed, she said, "We'd best discuss it somewhere safe. As you've both noticed, there are still several people who take exception to your cousin's actions." 

Regulus snorted. "There's an understatement if ever I heard one. Where would you suggest we talk, then?" 

"...My family's house ought to be safe enough. I've had the security tightened since the last breach." 

So she led them what seemed like halfway around London Below, finally stopping in front of a boarded-up door. 

Sirius beat Regulus to commenting on it. "And this is the way in, is it?" 

"One of them. My family's Talent is getting into things." That said, she touched the boards... and a way in appeared. 

"...Now there's a neat trick." 

"As I said, it runs in the family. You'll both need to hold on to me; I doubt you could get through it by yourselves." 

Once they were all inside - and rather out of sight of any doors, Regulus couldn't help noticing - Door said, "Hang on a tick, I'll get us some chairs," walked over to a painting, and disappeared into it. 

Regulus raised an eyebrow. "Interesting use of the portrait idea, that. Wonder if whoever came up with that variation knew anything about Hogwarts." 

"They might have, but I don't think any of these are likely to talk." 

"Did you miss the bit where pictures are worth a thousand words?" 

Door returned before the brothers could really start being sarcastic at each other, with three folding chairs in tow. As she set them up, she said, "The matter's rather complicated, and I've told Sirius very little of it. I don't know if you'll know anything else." 

"Only that whatever Bella got up to, she's made herself quite a few enemies, and it's possibly contributed to her insanity. Not that anyone Above would notice a bit of madness from her, and not that her failing to make friends is a surprise." 

"Well. It's safe to say that what she got into did contribute to her madness, considering." 

"And that would be?" Sirius said, settling into one of the chairs. 

"...The Black Friars were, until quite recently, in the habit of guarding a key. Heavily - they maintained a series of trials to prevent nearly everyone from getting their hands on it." 

"Like when Dumbledore was guarding the Philosopher's Stone at Hogwarts." 

Regulus just stared at his brother. "Is the man really so _dense_ as to do something like that? Wait, don't answer, I already know he is. Anyway, sorry for interrupting, Door. Go on." 

"Some years ago by local reckoning - I was nine or ten at the time - Bellatrix Black found her way Below and, after a fashion, began harassing the Friars to get them to hand over the key without putting her through the trials, on the basis of her last name. Or her maiden name, or perhaps both. She tried that at least five times, that I know of, and on the side was rumored to have picked some... unpleasant company. The Friars didn't budge, though, so she ultimately gave in and attempted the trials. Those who don't succeed either die or go mad." 

"As I said, most of her associates would be hard pressed to notice." 

"The ones she had here must have done. I don't think she's been back since then - no one's mentioned it, anyway - though she did make a number of enemies for herself, as you've heard. And people in undercities tend to have extremely long memories, as well as lives." 

"How sweet of them to share their grudge with the rest of us." 

"When you say unpleasant company," Sirius said, "I know the sort she keeps at home, but down here things seem to go at whole new levels, so dare I ask for a clarification?"

"...It's probably best I give you one anyway. I have it from some fairly reliable sources that she was associating with the men who eventually killed the rest of my family, with the possible exception of my younger sister, and the angel who hired them to do it." Regulus guessed from Door's tone that she was using a broad construction of the word 'men,' but one that somehow would have counted Lupin on the human end of the spectrum. 

"An angel?" 

"Yes. I suspect Islington wanted to save London Below from itself, and it needed the key to do that. The key... affects reality as substantially as its owner feels it ought to, when used." 

The antechamber they were sitting in went quiet, and remained that way for some time. Regulus finally broke the silence, still half thinking the new information over. 

"Bella wouldn't have offered her services to something like that unless there was something in it... for... oh, _fuck_. Sirius? We are extraordinarily lucky she never actually got her hands on that damned thing." 

"How do you..." All the color drained from Sirius' face as realization set in. "Oh. She would have done it, too."

"Dare _I_ ask?" Door said; Regulus mentally applauded her for the light sarcasm. 

"She's a very close associate of a murderous lunatic bent on taking over Britain, for the short explanation. I wouldn't put it past her to have wanted that key to effect a victory for him." 

Door winced. "Yes, I'd say you both are lucky. And everyone else in Britain Above." 

"Not just Britain. She might well have wanted to give him the world."

After a few more moments of silence, Sirius sighed. "In light of all that, I think the sooner I get home, the better chance I'll have of getting there in one piece. Particularly now that I've... made such a grand entrance into local knowledge, or at least local rumor."

"The two are often the same thing, if you hadn't noticed."

"Really? You don't say."

"Anyone could tell you two are related, the way you argue," Door said, smiling. "As for getting you out of here, Sirius... I don't know much about it myself, but I know someone who does. I'll send him a note and see if he can help."


	3. It's a Long Way Back Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Door makes good on her offer to find Sirius a way home, and Regulus has no choice but to tag along.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> May contain trace amounts of Good Omens.

"Are we there yet?" 

"I said before, Sirius. You'll know when we are." 

"...One moment, isn't this the same route you used to get to Kilburn?" 

"It is. Well spotted. But the turn for the Farms is a bit closer than that." 

Regulus nodded. "I'd thought some of the scenery looked familiar." 

Door led the two of them up a hill, around a bend, over a bridge forgotten by London Above sometime in the Middle Ages, and past a few fields that she thought were within the Farms' jurisdiction; either they had been traded off to someone else, or they were laying fallow this season. 

Not long after that, they reached the active fields. Door started looking around for Chalky almost immediately, half listening as Sirius took a closer look at the chalk bushes and Regulus pointed out, "Well, they must call them the Chalk Farms for a _reason_." 

"Well, yes, but I wasn't expecting--" 

"Such literalism? Even after being kidnapped by a circus? Only you, Sirius."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

Door, having located Chalky among the workers, attempted to wave off the argument without looking at them, accidentally catching one of them on the shoulder. "Sorry, but carry on later. I've found who we're looking for." 

She tried to catch his attention with a wave; two or three other people noticed first, and eventually pointed Chalky over. He attempted to dust off his hands as he approached, though it did little good. Door had noticed after previous visits that the chalk dust had a way of lingering for about a week in the best case.

"Your ladyship," he said when he was close enough, his ever-present grin in place. "I got your pigeon the other day. Are these the upworlders you mentioned?" 

"They are, yes. Sirius, at least, is looking to get back, and you know more about how wizards can function down here than I do." 

"I see. How are we negotiating this?" 

"Well. I understand you've been having ill luck negotiating trade through the Earl's train. I don't know how much I can promise, but I can try talking to him on the Farms' behalf." 

"Oh, you can promise far more than you give yourself credit for, your ladyship." With that, Chalky turned to Sirius and Regulus and added, "So. What exactly do the two of you need, then?" 

"I'm hoping not to need anything out of this," Regulus said. "But my brother is reckless enough to want to go home to a war effort--" 

"Hey!" 

"You know it as well as I do. Anyway, I've been here slightly longer, and noticed magic doesn't really work with any consistency." 

After a moment, Chalky nodded. "You're looking for a point where he can take himself Topside, sounds like." 

"Or something similar, yes." 

"All right. The White Chapel ought to work, and as it happens, I can get you in there. It'll be about a week before I'll have the time, though."

***

"All right. We're here. Now what do we do?" 

Regulus raised an eyebrow. "Where are you getting 'we'? I've no plans to go anywhere." 

Chalky shrugged. "Most other wizards who've gone this way have just... left. They seemed to know what they were doing. I've never asked." 

"And there's no... door or anything?" 

"Not that I've ever seen." 

Sirius considered that for a few moments, then brightened. "Sounds like they Apparated, then. Well, that should be easy enough - I know where I want to be." He concentrated on getting to... well, he didn't really _want_ to be at Grimmauld Place, but it seemed the safest bet under the circumstances... 

And nothing happened. 

"...Was something supposed to happen?" Chalky asked. 

"Yes. I was _supposed_ to stop being here and start being somewhere else."

"Oh, is that what they do? Odd, it usually works on the first try." 

"Well, why didn't it work now?" 

"I don't know. I don't even know how it works in the first place. Maybe both of you need to go." 

Regulus looked like he'd been trying to avoid considering that idea. "...Oh no. No. I'd much rather stay here."

"You would? Why?" 

"You may recall that I'm supposed to be hunted down and dead, Sirius. Staying here would be somewhat less dangerous for me." 

"Well, you can't expect me to stay here just because of your self-preservation instinct." 

"And why not? You're the one expecting me to _leave_ thanks to your lack thereof. I think it quite the fair trade." 

"You keep saying the Ministry needs saving from itself, and I'm probably not going to remember all of your talking points on that one. Besides, there's only so much I'll be able to do. How much are you going to be able to affect things from here?" 

"You do me the great service of assuming any of your cohorts would actually give a former Death Eater the time of day. If they don't pay attention, I won't be able to do anything no matter how much I want to." 

"But that's not the point," Sirius said, ignoring the fact that it very well could be valid. "You could still help. You know what might stand a chance of working and what definitely won't." 

"To what point and purpose if another bunch of teenagers are going to run themselves off to the slaughter while the adults who could do anything effective just sit there?" 

"No one said we were doing nothing. It's... there's a prophecy involved, all right? You know how those things go." 

"I do indeed. Everyone who's probably not the prophecy's intended target stops _trying_ to do anything about the situation at hand, which can't make it any easier for the person at the heart of it. Are you actually planning to break that trend if you get back?" 

"As best I can. At the very least, I don't want Harry to have to face it alone. He's got little enough support as things stand." 

"It happens, when you're too reckless for your own good. Tell me about this prophecy, then. Was it the real deal, or just some hack staring at their tea leaves and forecasting doom and gloom for all?" 

"Real enough that Dumbledore was keeping it as secret as he could. I had to camp in his office for three days before he told me what it said. Has to do with whoever's going to take down Voldemort." 

"Only three days? I'm impressed. Go on, then, what did it say?" 

"...I don't remember, exactly. It's been some years. There was a lot of 'born as the seventh month dies,' I do remember that - that narrowed it down to Harry or Frank and Alice Longbottom's son. Other than that... fairly standard, as prophecies against overwhelming evil go. Power the Dark Lord knows not, marked as his equal, neither can live while the other survives, so on, so forth." 

There was a tense pause as Regulus considered the information. 

"...All right. I suppose it can't hurt to try talking some sense into the world's greatest hopes. But I warn you, I am dealing with Albus Dumbledore as little as I can possibly manage to."

Sirius blinked. "You'll go?" 

"No, I just said that to make you feel better. Did it really sound that sarcastic to you? I must be out of practice. Where are you aiming for?"

***

"I must say, gentlemen, this is... rather surprising." 

Regulus snorted, trying to contain his amusement at Albus Dumbledore being caught off guard. "You didn't really know where that veil went at all, did you?" 

"Previous encounters with it had required me to make certain assumptions, I will admit." 

"And it would have been so easy to ask someone who worked there to see the file on it. You've got enough clout to get away with that." 

Sirius glared at him. "In any case, we're here now." 

"So I see. And what does this mean for... other matters?" 

"He's quite content to jump head-first back into your little war effort and keeping an eye on his godson," Regulus said. "I am officially not taking sides." 

"You did once before." 

"And that side thinks I'm long dead. I'm rather attached to my life, as it happens, and staying away from the Death Eaters strikes me as a good way to keep it, just now. I have no doubt Bella and her cohorts would more than gladly kill me 'again.'" 

Dumbledore gave him what was probably meant to come off as a pitying look, but it got sidetracked, in Regulus' estimate, somewhere nearer condescending. "So you'll withhold your insider's knowledge from the resistance effort, then? It might bring an end to all of this sooner." 

"It might, and I never said I wouldn't give information. If you think your Boy Wonder and his friends will even pay attention, that is. But I'm not fighting anyone, for reasons previously noted." 

"There's no use trying to convince him," Sirius said. "I've already tried. Several times."

"Yes, _thank_ you, Sirius. Is that all?" 

"It will suffice for now, I think." Dumbledore stood, and headed for the door. "I will have to inform Harry of my... miscalculation." 

"Do it sooner rather than later. From all I've heard the past couple of weeks, the kid's suffered more than enough." 

"Quite." 

After Dumbledore was gone, Sirius turned to look at Regulus. 

"You've really changed your mind that much, have you?"

"I didn't subscribe to most of the hard line anyway - we've been over that. Besides... I've spent the past two months essentially surrounded by Muggles. Muggles who can open doors that were never meant to be there, Muggles who conduct negotiations with rats and pigeons, Muggles who can cause injury just by thinking about it, but the fact remains that it's not magic as we know it. The man who came up with the library's filing system did it all with mechanisms."

"And your point in this would be?" 

"There's no sense in leaving most of the world to hang because one small corner of it is too stupid to clean up its own messes." 

That seemed to satisfy his brother for now, which Regulus appreciated. His reasons for agreeing to come back were rather more complicated, but he only wanted to explain that once, if he could help it.

***

Two or three days after their discussion with Dumbledore, a snowy owl found its way to Twelve Grimmauld Place's kitchen. Regulus took a few moments from trying to sort out what was around to eat, untied the message from the owl's leg, and said, "I'm sure you can find a mouse around here somewhere." 

When he could make neither heads nor tails of the address on the outside of the parchment, he set it on the table and went back to rummaging. Kreacher had yet to put in an appearance, which was quite all right with him. 

Sirius stumbled in about ten minutes later. "'s there any tea on this spaceship?" 

"...On what?" 

"Never mind. 's from a book." He sat down at the table, and then appeared to finally notice the post. "When did this get here?" 

"Just a bit ago. Dare I ask who's been calling you 'Snuffles'?" 

"...What kind of owl brought it?" 

"Snowy." 

"Oh, good, he _did_ tell Harry." 

"If that's your godson's idea of discreet postal service, someone might want to talk him into using another owl, at least for the deathly important. That one's too conspicuous to survive long." Regulus turned away from the pantry excavation and added, "Will you still be needing that tea?" 

"Maybe in a bit. Let's see how far nervous energy gets me first... Well, he did learn one thing. He wants to make sure it's actually me." 

"He's not just taking Dumbledore's word for it? I'm impressed. There may be hope for the boy yet." 

"You would say that. Well, I can't leave the boy waiting for a reply, he'd never get anything done. You want to send anything along?" 

"No, odds are he'll meet me soon enough. He can form his opinion then, if he hasn't already." 

*** 

"We've got company." 

"What makes you say that?" 

"Mother's shouting again. Do you want to deal with it, or shall I?" 

"I will. It'll give me something to do." With that, Sirius got up and headed up the back stairs and toward the entrance. 

_"Blood traitors and monsters sullying the house of my fathers--" _

"Oh, do shut up, Mother!" He closed the portrait's drapery with a wave of his wand, and then grew still as what it had been shouting had a chance to sink in. "...She only ever gets so far as 'monsters' with one person." 

"And the beginning of your break from her doctrine was when you saw the person despite the monster." Remus, apparently deciding it was safe to move, stepped out of the shadows by the front door. "I thought I'd be best served to see for myself whether the rumors were true." 

"You would... oh, Merlin, Moony, you look like hell warmed over." 

"I thought you were used to that by now." 

"More than usual, I meant. I... I'm sorry. Disappearing like that can't have helped." 

"Sirius, don't worry about it. I survived." 

"Who told you I was back, anyway? Dumbledore or Harry?" 

"Both, actually, in that order." Remus hesitated for a moment, then continued. "Dumbledore also... said something about your brother being back as well."

"Oh, he is. Just as sarcastic as ever, but... he's drifted from the family doctrine as well. Not to what we'd call Order-joining proportions, but he's also not running back to where he was." 

"Well, both of those make some sense, for him. Why let on he's not dead before he has to?" 

"That's what he said." Well, it was only part of it, but Sirius knew his brother and Remus would never see eye to eye on Dumbledore's trustworthiness. "Oh, and he worked out your condition back in school, apparently. I think he would have said something then if he'd meant to, but... well, I thought you should know." 

"Good to know he won't stir up a fuss now, at least." 

"Yeah. Look, if you ever need somewhere to stay, well, as far as I'm concerned, there's always a place for you here. Or, well, wherever I end up, really. Once things calm down I probably won't stay here very long, but--" 

"Calm down, Sirius, I understand. That and if you keep getting louder, you'll start your mother shouting again." 

"...Good point." 

"Now get over here so I can hug you properly, will you?" 

And for the moment, at least, all was right with the world.

***

The Christmas gathering was hosted by the Weasleys. Regulus, partly forced along by Sirius and partly going because he had nothing better to do, wasn't quite sure how such a haphazard pile of housing materials had survived this long, but anything that had weathered seven lively children would probably make it through a comparatively light social event intact. 

Besides, that meant the living room had several convenient corners in which he could avoid everyone else and watch the proceedings. That was entertainment enough to last him all week, especially when his brother found out one of the other guests had helped himself to some Black family heirlooms in everyone else's absence ("Look, it may be valuable junk I don't want, but it's _my_ valuable junk to get rid of! ...Or, well, it was Harry's at the time, but the point stands. Couldn't you have asked him first?"). 

Not long after the haranguing moved away, a blonde girl who looked about Harry's age approached the corner Regulus had most recently claimed. There wasn't anything of note on the wall behind him, so he had to assume she was looking for conversation. 

"Yes?" 

She considered him a moment or two longer before saying, "So are _you_ Stubby Boardman, then?" 

"...What?" 

"I'll take that as a no, then. Pity. Only someone told Daddy's paper that Stubby Boardman was actually Sirius Black, but he denied that himself earlier. I thought maybe someone else in the family had used the name, but if you didn't either, that rather limits the possibilities." 

"I should hope so. That sounds like a name Mother would blast the user off the tapestry over, were she still around to care." 

The girl shrugged. "It was worth a try. Where were you hiding, to reappear so suddenly, anyway?" 

"I don't know that you'd believe me if I told you." 

"Oh, I'll believe almost anything until there's proof to the contrary. I'm Luna, by the way. Luna Lovegood. Daddy edits the _Quibbler_." 

"I've not heard of it, but I did miss quite a bit, all told." 

Before long, Regulus found himself telling her the whole story about London Below; Luna, true to her word, was utterly fascinated. She struck him as a refreshingly sensible girl, if in a roundabout way. 

"Oh, that would keep the paper occupied for weeks! I don't know that anyone would believe it - it's got a reputation for printing crackpot theories, especially after printing all those hypotheses on what caused all the commotion back in August, but Daddy does try to get real news in there as well." 

"And there's probably more real news in it on a daily basis than the Prophet, though that's not hard. ...Wait, commotion in August?" 

"Oh, yes. Rains of fish, Tibetan monks digging tunnels all over the world for reasons even they couldn't fathom, all sorts of odd things. One of the Muggle motorways got both far too hot and far too cold for anyone to cross it - London was completely stopped up." 

This was ringing a few bells that Regulus hadn't paid much mind since he left school. "What year is it?" 

"1996. Why do you ask?" 

"Oh, no reason. Just... something Professor Device mentioned now and then." 

"Who?"

"He taught Divination when I was at Hogwarts. He put a lot of emphasis on interpretation - that sort of runs in his family." 

They talked a while longer, and then Luna wandered off to find the other teenagers. Regulus found it something of a relief to know at least one of those kids wasn't afraid to put her mind to good use.

***

After deflecting Luna's questions about possible pseudonyms - she seemed like a nice enough girl, but really, some of her ideas were just mad - Sirius decided it was time to get some answers to a question he'd had on his mind since he first caught sight of Dora, just before dinner. He headed over to the sofa she was sitting on, sat down next to her, and said, "So. What's wrong?" 

"...Oh, nothing." She smiled, but it looked like she was forcing the reaction. "It's good to have you back." 

"It's good to be back, believe me, but this is about you. You look more like your mother than I've ever known you to prefer. What's got you too down to do anything about that?" 

"It's complicated. I think some of it's just... this wasn't what I was expecting from law enforcement, considering we weren't supposed to have evil-overlord sort of problems anymore when I left Hogwarts. And even when it did pick up, I kind of thought it'd be easier to finish off than it has been." 

"Oh, didn't we all. First time it happened, I was sure it'd be over by Christmas, pretty much up to Christmas Eve." 

"And then it wasn't?" 

"Exactly. But you say that's only part of your problem?" 

Dora shifted a bit, looking at her knees. "I... there's a bloke." 

"And you haven't said anything to him because..." 

"Well, at first, I didn't have the first clue where to start. He's more used to me as a colleague, sort of. And now, I don't expect I have much of a chance at all - I mean, I can't exactly hope to take him away from you." 

Sirius almost asked what she meant before it sank in. "...Oh, Dora." 

"I'm not going to do anything, I _promise_, I just--" 

"Relax. I wasn't accusing you of anything. Knowing you, it's nothing but good intentions that got you into this mess in the first place." 

"Something like that. It's just... he always looks so sad. A little better now you're back, but, well, the fact that I noticed that change probably says something, doesn't it? And I thought maybe I could help him be happy." 

"Dora, look at me. Moony is a tough nut to crack in the best case. He's so used to having to fend for himself that it surprises him enough when people just want to be his _friend_, never mind get more involved than that. And he's lost so many people that it's only got to be getting harder for him." 

"He lost you twice." 

"And he's calling getting me back twice a miracle. I'd say that's not far from the truth. Anyway, if you want to see him happy, just be his friend. Merlin knows he could do with more of those." 

"You think it's that simple?" 

"I know him better than anyone, remember." 

"Good point." Dora smiled again, a bit more convincingly this time. "Thanks. I think I needed to hear that." 

"That's what family's for. When it's not horribly dysfunctional, anyway." 

By the time she went home, the tips of Dora's hair were pink again. It was still a far cry from her usual, but Sirius was willing to call it a small victory.

***

"Those kids need help."

Sirius turned to look at his brother. "What makes you say that?" 

"Watch them interact for five or ten minutes at a time and tell me you don't see it." 

"I've done that for a couple of years now. Harry's done quite well, considering he got offloaded on Lily's odious sister and brother-in-law." 

"Tell me, do you know if anyone took him to St. Mungo's after his parents were killed?" 

"...I don't remember hearing anything about it. Admittedly, I was a bit distracted at the time. Why do you ask?" 

"Because that scar on his forehead isn't natural, and it would be silly of anyone to assume an infant survived a magical attempt on his life without some kind of lasting effects. Someone might have thought to check him for brain damage, but I suppose that would have made sense." 

"For all I know, Dumbledore took care--" 

Regulus snorted. "Please. If Dumbledore were capable of doing the sensible thing, he would have taken care of the Dark Lord well before anyone went round making prophecies about the matter." 

"Even so. Someone might have had him looked at. i wouldn't know, though." 

"Not to mention that after that, he spent years with relatives who weren't best pleased to have him around, from your description. And then he came here and started playing Quidditch, the sport of major personal injury, to say nothing of the potential for being knocked about the head in everyday inter-house exchanges. Between that and the number of times he's rushed off to deal with the Dark Lord--" 

"Look, he's survived four times since he started school--" 

"Which only tells me he wasn't smart enough to learn from the first one, nor were his friends smart enough to stop him. In fact... did they help?" 

"Of course they did. Ron beat the wizards' chess game in the way of the Philosopher's Stone. I've heard the whole story several times by now." 

"Naturally. Give your strategist a solid knock to the head before you're all old enough to need and appreciate a good strategy. That's always ended well in the past. I don't see what's stopping it working now. And the girl?" 

"Hermione? She's bloody _brilliant_. Probably could have left school by now if she'd really wanted to." 

Regulus sighed. "What I meant was, does she ever stop working?" 

"...Now that you mention it, I'm not entirely sure." 

"If she doesn't, she going to overtax herself permanently. She might already have done, for all anyone knows. Quite the triumvirate we're discussing, really. Remind me why I left London Below if these three are meant to save the day?" 

"Because they might have a better chance of doing the job if they have insider knowledge?" 

"They might. Or they might just get themselves killed more quickly." 

Sirius sighed. This was going to be a long discussion.


	4. Shapes of Things

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Regulus explains why he bothered coming back, but only after taking the necessary action.

When he had a bit more time to think about it, Harry supposed he oughtn't have been surprised by Death Eaters turning up at Hogwarts while he and Dumbledore were gone. After all, he'd _known_ Malfoy was plotting something all year, even though no one else had really seemed to care.

Nothing could have prepared him for the altercation ending the way it did, though. And certainly Dumbledore had frozen him in place and hidden him from sight for his own safety, but that only meant he couldn't help when Snape arrived. 

Everyone was reeling from Dumbledore's death, even as they acknowledged it was a miracle (or perhaps just a well-brewed potion) that that and the attack on Bill Weasley were the worst casualties in the whole affair. Regulus seemed far too amused by the whole affair, in light of the circumstances. Harry could decide what to make of that later, though. Dumbledore was dead, and someone needed to come up with the next plan to take down Voldemort. 

Ron and Hermione asked him about it after the funeral. If Harry hadn't known better, he would have thought they timed it so that Sirius and his brother could listen in. 

"I don't know. I think someone's going to have to go and look for those Horcruxes. I might be the best qualified for the job--" 

"Actually, I don't know about that." 

Harry blinked, and turned to face Regulus. "Since when do you care? I thought you weren't taking sides." 

"That doesn't mean I wouldn't like to see this nasty business over just as much as you do. First things first - where did Dumbledore take you on your little Horcrux hunt?" 

"I don't know. Some cave or other, in a cliffside." 

"And the man didn't even check to make sure he had what he thought he did? Then again, I suppose that means Voldemort never noticed I'd nicked the thing, either. More fool them." 

"...Wait, that was _your_ note? How did you get past the green stuff?" 

Regulus sighed. "If Dumbledore drank that shite, he deserved everything he got. I summoned Kreacher and made him drink it." 

Hermione looked appalled, but Harry shook his head before she could start to protest. Now was not the time for house elf liberation; besides, if ever there were a house elf that was too dangerous for freedom, it was Kreacher. 

"Anyway, my point stands. If you don't know what objects you're looking for, where to find them, or how to tell whether you've got the right thing, you're best off staying home. To say nothing of how to destroy the things - I never quite worked that one out myself. But at the very least, I've actually found one and made off with it." 

"Well, I'd thought--" 

"Did you? If you're worried about me trampling on your oh-so-important destiny, I have every intention of avoiding that. You can destroy as many of the things as you'd like, if you can work out how. But in the grander scheme, the three of you would be far better off keeping yourselves out of trouble for a change, and possibly trying to figure out how to keep all of this from happening again." 

*** 

Not trampling on Harry's apparent destiny was a brilliant idea in theory. 

Unlike nearly everyone else involved, though, Regulus liked having more of a plan than 'get the flask' or 'kill the bad guy' in place before he took action. And when he sat down and thought it out logically, he ran into a road block. 

Horcruxes, he'd gathered from reading, took a bit of the creator's intelligence away along with their soul. There was very little research as to what happened when a Horcrux was destroyed, but he saw no reason to assume the bit of soul wouldn't return to its owner. 

If they carried on destroying Horcruxes while the bits of Voldemort's soul still had a body to return to, this would only get exponentially worse before it got better. Therefore, the easiest solution would be... 

To piss off Harry quite a bit, in the short term. But at least Dumbledore had graciously saved him the trouble of nosing in when the need for an explanation finally reared its head. 

He only hoped he could make it to Kilburn and back before the kids had time to do anything stupid.

***

After a close call with an ancestor to the Floating Market, the former legionaries fell into the habit of keeping up a night watch; before they deserted and found themselves Below, the uniforms usually did the trick. Marcus Octavius was at what passed for their lookout post when the man they all called the young Caesar came back. 

"Hail. The rumor was you had gone." 

"I had, but it seems desperate measures are in order. There's... a situation, where I hail from. If you could spare any men, I would greatly appreciate it. I don't know whether I'll be back to be indebted to you, but the sentiment is there." 

Marcus nodded. "Will the matter hold until morning, or ought I wake the others?" 

"...I honestly don't know how much time I have. Waking the others might be a good idea." 

So Marcus roused the other soldiers, and they all discussed the matter until the late hours were becoming the early hours. Ultimately, twenty of the soldiers agreed to follow the young Caesar - or attempt to, anyway, since even he wasn't entirely sure if such would be possible. 

It was, though the soldiers were most severely sidetracked by just how much Londinium had changed, on the surface. 

*** 

The bad men usually left Ingress alone now. They'd asked her a bunch of questions when the crazy lady first brought her Topside, but then they stopped bothering. She guessed it was because she didn't really have anything to do with their war, so she wasn't interesting enough to talk to.

That was okay, but she really wanted to go home. Anywhere in London Below would count, by now, but if it had her family - if her daddy and brother and sister hadn't met the same end as Mama had - it would be extra good. She didn't know why the bad men wouldn't just let her go, since they didn't seem to need her, other than... well, they were bad. Wasn't that what bad people did best? The opposite of what good people wanted?

One morning, she woke up and heard fighting. That was new - someone must have found the bad men. They didn't fight each other, as far as Ingress knew.

That was good. The bad men needed a little trouble, and maybe whoever had come, if they won, would let her go home. She only wished the bad men hadn't tied her to a tent peg. She wanted to see what was going on, at least long enough to know how dangerous it was.

After a while, all the noise died down. The tent front opened, and a boy who looked about Arch's age - well, Arch's age if he was still alive - stepped in, holding a wand like what the bad men had. Ingress didn't recognize him, but that didn't mean much. The bad men liked masks a lot.

"Are you one of the bad men?" she finally asked. It seemed the best way to find out for sure.

The boy stopped in his tracks, looked at her, and said, "Not anymore. How long have you been here?"

"Ages and ages. I stopped counting - it got too high. Do I get to go home now?"

"I can certainly try to get you there. Where's your home?"

"The House of Arch," she said right away. "It's in London--"

"Below, I know. I'd half guessed - you have your sister's eyes."

"You know Door?"

"Well enough to know she'll be thrilled to see you. I won't be able to go along myself, but I can send you back and get word to her." The boy pointed his wand at the ropes tying Ingress to the tent peg and said something she didn't understand, but then the ropes came undone, so that was all right. It wasn't like what happened when the bad men pointed _their_ wands at things.

She was a little disappointed to find out she was going to have to spend time with more soldiers - but these were at least nicer than the bad men, even though they didn't know much English. And the boy told her he'd met them Below, so Ingress was sure she'd be home and back with Door before she knew it.

 ***

It had been roughly a month for Door since the brothers had returned to London Above; she occasionally wondered how they were faring, though everyday politics and the ongoing search for Ingress rather limited her time.

One of her stops at the Post Office, now part of her routine thanks to Richard's insistence that getting things in the post did people good, turned up a note in handwriting she didn't recognize. "One of the Romans delivered it," 404 explained, "but I don't think he wrote it."

"It's certainly not addressed in Latin, so I'm inclined to agree. Thank you." She left the Post Office intending to save the note for when she got home, but curiosity got the better of her on the Tube.

_Get to Kilburn at your first convenience. There's someone there you'll want to talk to, if I don't miss my guess; I'd have come to tell you in person, but matters topside are still rather hectic._

Oh, and Bella's dead. That may interest the Friars.

She blinked at the initials the writer had signed with, before correlating the first and last to Regulus. After rereading the note a couple of times, she got off the Tube and headed toward one of Richard's usual haunts instead of home. If she was reading this correctly... well, they likely wouldn't need the Key again after all.

And if Regulus ever found his way Below again, she'd probably never be able to repay him in full.  
*** 

The news beat Regulus back to Grimmauld Place; then again, he had to make sure the soldiers got back the their camp all right, so there wasn't much he could do about it. Fortunately, the underside hadn't seen fit to eat up decades of his time once again. 

Unfortunately, it meant Harry was _still_ sulking loudly enough to bring the impromptu Order headquarters down on everyone inside. And no one had figured out how to remove or otherwise shut up Mother's portrait, so she was shrieking as well. 

"How could you _do_ that?" 

"Harry--" 

"That was supposed to be _my_ thing, everyone said so--" 

"If you could stop shouting for five seconds--" 

"And _you_ said you weren't going to--" 

"...I don't have time for this. _Silencio_!" 

Regulus still had to wait for the portrait to stop raving before he could continue. "Anyway. I would have been more than happy to let you have all the glory, believe me, but the circumstances didn't allow for it. I only want to have to explain this once, though, so get your friends and meet me in the kitchen. Longbottom as well - he's been kept in the dark far too long. I'll get Sirius. Can you do that without shouting the place down again?" 

Harry nodded, and Regulus canceled the spell before going to look for his brother.

 *** 

"...Lovegood, what are you doing here? I'd only meant for him to get Ron and Hermione and Longbottom." 

Luna shrugged. "He said it was about the business with Voldemort. I was interested." 

"You would be. All right, you're sensible enough. You can stay." 

After everyone was settled around the table, he continued. "I'll start with the practical explanation. I did some reading on Horcruxes some time ago. There's nothing to suggest a bit of soul wouldn't return to its owner if one was destroyed, and there is a lot of evidence that separating part of one's soul from the rest also removes some intelligence."

"Well," Hermione said, "if a Dementor's Kiss leaves behind a soulless, mindless husk, that would make some sense." 

"Precisely. And since releasing bits of Voldemort's soul while they had a body to return to would have been a horrendous idea and made getting rid of him that much more difficult, the obvious thing to do was discorporate him first." Harry looked as though he were just realizing that point, which wouldn't have surprised Regulus in the least. 

"All right, but why didn't you tell anyone else?" Sirius asked.

"None of you have any particular inclination to trust me, so far as I know. I figured Harry would likely throw a fit either way, so he might as well use the energy on what had already happened rather than what might. Besides - saving your presence, Lovegood - I know the Gryffindor mentality far too well for my own tastes by now. This wasn't a case where rushing in first and asking questions later would have helped." 

"Oh, so you asked questions and then rushed in?" 

"I didn't rush anywhere, thank you very much." In truth, it had taken a bit longer than he would have liked, but it was his own fault for not warning the soldiers about how far London had come since their heyday. 

Ron looked puzzled about something. "...Well, yes, all right, but isn't there still the prophecy thing?" 

"Yes, that's the second part. Sirius, I know you never took it - how are the rest of you on Divination?" 

Hermione snorted; there was absolutely no mistaking the derisive overtone.

"She walked out before a year was even up," Longbottom explained. "Because she thought it was a joke, but I think also because she tried to take all the electives at once and finally lost her nerve." 

"I did _not_ lose my nerve!" 

"I don't know what else you want to call it. You were certainly more jumpy than usual. Anyway, the rest of us stuck it out at least through to OWLs. Even though Professor Trelawney kept making fun of me for being clumsy and forgetful." 

"It's an easy pass, though," Ron added. "Predict doom and gloom for yourself and your loved ones, and you'll get top marks every time." 

Regulus sighed. "How like Dumbledore to replace a competent teacher with a crackpot. Lovegood, you said you were mostly self-taught when we talked at Christmas, right?" 

She nodded. "I wanted to take the class, but Daddy said I'd be better off reading on my own. So I did." 

"Right, then. The first thing Professor Device told us was that prophecies should _never_ be taken as an excuse for inaction. The event in question may never come to pass otherwise, and if there's a Chosen One at hand, everyone else doing nothing only serves to make his life harder." 

"I know that feeling," Harry muttered.

"I expect you do. The second thing he told us was that interpreting prophecies is both easier and harder than it looks. His family's been in the practice for generations. He said that where you think something's meant literally, it could also be far more obtuse, and vice versa." 

"All right. How does this relate to the one about me?" 

"About you or Longbottom, Harry - I only have what Sirius told me to go on, but he told me most people thought it was one of you two. Anyway, I mostly agreed to come back because I saw a chance it could apply to me as well, whether I wanted it to or not." 

"Hold on a moment," Hermione said. "You certainly weren't born in 1980." 

"No. But in prophetic speech, 'born' can mean 'born to a new life' - usually the afterlife - just as easily as a literal birth. For all official purposes, I died September 29th of that year." 

"...Well, there's the seventh month covered," Luna said, half to herself. 

"Quite. As for the rest of it... some wouldn't call conditions in London Below a life, comparatively, though I had little trouble with it. It's probably close enough to count. I doubt anyone could possibly have been prepared for Romans at their door these days. And if we want to discuss being marked as the Dark Lord's equal, I'll not mince words and just roll up my sleeve." 

"There's a bit you didn't get," Harry said, though with far less venom than he'd been using before the group discussion started. "'Born to those who have thrice defied him,' or something very close to that, anyway." 

Sirius nodded. "I'd figured there was a part I didn't remember. And I don't think you can claim our parents--" 

"I'll admit that bit's tricky. However, it doesn't specifically say parents, or how the defiance took place. If you look at the family line in general, there are at least two cases of rebelling against Voldemort's principles in my generation, one of whom is sitting at this table." 

"...Point taken. And for the third... there are a few Squibs in the family, Uncle Alphard helped me get on my feet when I moved out, Dora's gone into law enforcement, possibly even your own defection - there are more options than I thought." 

Luna was grinning. "So the prophecy chose someone that nobody could have expected." 

"It did, at that." Regulus sighed. "Harry, Longbottom, I would have been more than glad to stay out of the center of attention and let one or both of you do the dirty work. I didn't even _want_ to come back, particularly, but the world had other ideas. Anyway, if a prophecy points fingers at more than one person, they might all be necessary to solving the problem." 

Harry brightened for what was probably the first time since Dumbledore died (Regulus really didn't understand what everyone had seen in the man, but that bore consideration at another time). "So I can still help?" 

"Both of you, more than likely. You're not hunting for Horcruxes alone until you know what you're doing, but it might well take all three of us to destroy the things."

***

"Right. Did Dumbledore give you any useful information about these things at all?"

Harry sighed. "I think I know what they are, and some of them are already out of the way. It's just going to be a matter of finding the rest of the things. Here, I'll write them down..."

After Harry had written down everything he knew about the Horcruxes, he passed the list to Regulus, who read it with a slight frown on his face.

"So you can vouch for the ring and the diary. I'm fairly certain one of the Romans offed the snake. The locket should still be around here, unless you went through Mother's jewelry boxes in the apparent spring cleaning or it got pinched by Fletcher. If only the cup and the mystery artifact are at large, this may be easier than I thought."

"Finding them, anyway," Neville pointed out. "We'll have to destroy them afterward - do you know anything about that?"

"No, and I tried the library at school last year. Hermione too, since she knows it better than I do. There's nothing about them either way." Harry tried to avoid thinking about the locket in conjunction with Mrs. Weasley's cleaning spree - there'd been that one that no one could get open, that they were going to throw out... but he could bring that up later.

"You're not likely to find anything here. The family library always did tend more toward making that sort of thing than dealing with it." Regulus sighed. "Still, if we only have two of the things to find..."

"Um. We might have three? I'm fairly certain, thinking back, the locket ended up in the discard pile."

"Damn."

"...Then again, Kreacher was always nicking things back and hiding them in the kitchen. It might be there."

"I'll go look," Neville said, heading for the back stairs. He was back all too quickly, though, just as empty-handed as when he had left.

"Now what do we do?"

After a moment or two, Regulus smirked and stood up. "Summon Kreacher."

"Are you kidding?"

"If anyone's going to know where the thing ended up, it'll be him. Do it." He moved behind a high-backed chair, still smirking; Harry looked at Neville, who shrugged.

"All right, but if he tries anything, _you_ can deal with him... Kreacher!"

The house elf appeared with the usual pop and a scowl. "Oh, so Master _Potter_ is back, probably with his Mudblood and blood traitor friends in tow. Kreacher cannot think what Master Potter would want to talk to Kreacher for--"

"Actually," Regulus said before Harry could reply, abandoning his cover, "we had a few questions for you."

Kreacher turned white. "Master Regulus!"

"Not as dead as you thought I was, am I? On to the question. That locket I had you help me procure - is it still here?"

"Kreacher tried to keep it in the house, but Mundungus Fletcher stole it from Kreacher..."

Harry sighed. He'd suspected as much, especially after Neville hadn't found anything in the kitchen, but hearing it from Kreacher was still something of a disappointment.

Regulus nodded, after letting Kreacher babble for about a minute. "Very well. Find it."

With a terrified nod, Kreacher disappeared again.

"...Well," Neville said after a moment. "Never would have thought of that approach."

Regulus was still smirking; in fact, he was closer to laughing outright than Harry had seen him so far. "I'm just glad I had an opportunity to scare him. Anyway, that should keep him busy for a while - let's work on how to get rid of the thing once we have it."

They were at the problem for at least an hour without any real leads; Harry didn't know how Dumbledore had destroyed the ring, and Neville and Regulus had (admittedly understandable) reservations about finding enough basilisks to repeat the diary's fate. Ultimately, Harry was on his way to try to find some food before carrying on when the idea came.

"...That's it," Neville said. "Cooking. You and Hermione have mentioned something Muggles use to heat up food when they're in a hurry. And I think Hermione said they don't interact well with metal, and we're looking at trying to destroy a bunch of metal objects..."

"You want to _microwave_ the things to... well, to death?"

"It can't hurt to try, at least. If that doesn't work, we can... I don't know, find a big hammer or something."

"Why are _you_ the one having ideas about non-magical solutions?"

Regulus shrugged. "As long as someone thought of it, it doesn't much matter."


	5. Back Where We Belong

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Regulus goes home, now that he's found one.

Regulus was about halfway through the contents of his room when Sirius found him. 

"What are you doing?" 

"You're reasonably intelligent. I should hope you don't need me to answer that question." 

"All right, I walked into that one. Why are you..." 

"Because. The bloody Horcruxes are finally out of the way, so there's no other reason for me to stick around." 

"What, I don't get a say in this?" 

"You _want_ one?" 

"I've already buried you once. I'm not sure I can bring myself to do it again."

"Who said anything about a burial? You know exactly where I'm going. I think, and I'm basing this in part on my own experiences, that once you know London Below's there at all, it's easier to find. Nothing's stopping you from visiting." 

"That last sentence is quite easy to apply in reverse."

"In theory. In practice, I don't know if I'll be able to come back here again."

"But--" 

Regulus sighed. "You've seen how London Below works. Other than the mess with that bloody stupid prophecy, I had no reason to come back, and that's done now. You ought to be able to come and go with little trouble, if you choose to - there's your godson keeping you here, and your... and Lupin. I didn't even have anything to leave behind the first time, other than imminent death."

"What about all the talking you did about how the Ministry needed more saving than anyone cared to admit?" 

"I've passed the ideas on to Granger. If she doesn't overtax herself with it, she and her friends ought to be able to get it somewhere. This isn't my world to save anymore. If you'll excuse me, I haven't gone through that yet." 

Sirius got up from the trunk he'd sat down on after making his presence known. "I... suppose you have a point. Still, I'd thought that maybe since we finally managed to patch things up, sort of..."

"It's good that we had the opportunity, whether we both had to be strongarmed into it or not. But that's not going to solve everything." 

"Wouldn't be me if I didn't hope otherwise." 

"Oh, I know. If you really wanted to stop me, you wouldn't have stood up."

Sirius eventually left, and Regulus sighed again. he'd known that wasn't going to go over well. But he'd finally started to make a home for himself, before Sirius found him in the library, and he'd be damned if he was going to give that up.

***

This conversation, the Marquis was beginning to suspect, didn't have the Underside's best odds of ending in his favor.

He wouldn't have come anywhere near the Circus if he could have helped it, but he needed some information that only Oxford had, and their idea of a fair trade for cooperating was his idea of... well, it was his idea of the opposite of a fun time. Being strapped to a table and... _experimented_ on certainly wouldn't help the Marquis maintain his reputation as a man about town, nor would it get the information to where it would provide maximum effect.

Worse yet, he suspected they were beginning to attract an audience. Word of messy negotiations spread just as easily as anything else, in London Below, and he really didn't have the time to deal with the consequences.

Finally, a young man who had stopped near the negotiations some minutes previously stepped forward, tapped the Circus man on the shoulder, and said, "If the man doesn't want to take part in your bargain, find another way to go about it. I just got back, and I'd like to relax before I have to call on the Romans for business again."

The Circus man gaped for a few moments before resuming negotiations; he was suddenly far more willing to help the Marquis out for less than being the demonstration subject to accompany a lecture.

After they had finished, the Marquis found the young man. "You'd be one of the upworlders her Ladyship was hanging around with last month, then? I heard a bit about the Roman incident, though I thought she'd got you both off home."

"Oh, she did. I decided to come back, is all."

"Ah. I wonder if that's regular for those who get back Topside."

"If my brother ever opts to come back for more than a visit, I'll let you know..." The young man trailed off; the look he was giving the Marquis suddenly reminded him of an important fact about the Lady Door's last two upworlders.

"You're on a Chocolate Frog card, aren't you."

The Marquis sighed heavily. "_This_ is why I avoid dealing with wizards. You lot know too much for my good, even if it's mostly through those cards."

"Well, I don't imagine most of the ones you'd run into at the moment would expect you. From the time I just left, I think you've supposedly been dead for a few centuries... then again, that doesn't always mean anything down here."

"Precisely my point. Just... don't go spreading that around, would you? It's the sort of information I'd prefer to keep as far from public consumption as possible."

"You don't say." The young man paused for a few moments before continuing, with the sort of smirk the Marquis wouldn't call trustworthy even - no, especially - if he himself were using it. "I suppose, since there's nothing I particularly need at the moment, you'll just have to owe me a favor."

"...There's nothing else you'd rather have?"

"I don't have use for anything else. Besides, one never knows when he'll need to call in a favor. From what Door had to say, you should know that quite well."

"Indeed." The Marquis sighed again. "Well, I suppose if that's what it takes to ensure my good name, we have an arrangement."

***

Regulus settled back into life at the library more easily than he had expected. Then again, it wasn't the sort of place that was inclined to change much, other than collecting new books as the world above forgot about them. That was more than enough to keep him solidly occupied and well out of everyone's way, though, so it suited him just fine.

He was looking at one of the new arrivals when he heard very purposeful footsteps headed for his reading chair.

"Regulus Black, _what_ are you doing holed up in the library, and why did I have to find out you were back from the Marquis? You might have tracked me down as soon as you got in."

Regulus blinked; Door had the personality to pull off righteous indignation, that much was certain. It helped to counteract her slight stature enough that people would take her seriously.

"...I hadn't wanted to impose."

"You wouldn't have been imposing, you dolt! I'll probably owe you for the rest of my _life_ for getting Ingress back down here. The least I can do is work out something so you can stay in the House. Goodness knows I have the room, and you're one of very few people I'd trust around Ingress at the moment."

"The point does stand that you'd have to work something out before I could stay there. Where is your sister, anyway?"

"Richard's keeping an eye on her. I had to come through Ratspeaker territory to get here, and they're a bit on edge at the moment. Thought it best not to take chances."

"I see. You can't keep her cooped up forever, you realize."

"Oh, I know that. It's just so hard finding reliable people to leave her with."

Regulus sighed. "You're not going to give in until I let you work something out, are you?"

"Is there any reason I ought to?"

"Well, I suppose not." He did like the library, but having a well-protected house to go to, otherwise populated with people whose company he didn't mind, certainly couldn't hurt.

"There you are, then. I'll let you know when something's set."

"I'd say you don't have to, but you're clearly set on the idea that you do."

"As I said, it's the least I can do." Door smiled a bit, then added, "Good on you for getting the Marquis to owe _you_ a favor, though. However you managed it - he wouldn't say."

Regulus smirked. "That doesn't surprise me."

***

As predicted, it took Door a week or two to sort out suitable arrangements to let Regulus into the House of Arch on his own, while simultaneously keeping her security measures in place. Regulus ended up contributing to the process a bit, running off of what he understood about the portrait entrances at Hogwarts; that was more helpful for the inside of the house, but he at least felt like he was contributing to the process.

After the arrangements were finalized, he went back to the library to collect the last of his things, only to find that someone had taken up space in his reading chair while he'd been gone. For all he didn't technically own the thing, he'd grown rather attached to it while he'd been here, so he felt the matter bore investigating. Besides, his things were still near the chair in question.

The person in the chair looked up after he approached. "Oh, hello. I thought I'd recognized some of this."

"...Lovegood, what are you _doing_ here?"

Luna shrugged. "I got curious. And before you ask, I've finished school, and Daddy and my friends know I'm exploring and might not be back. But if I am, I'll have one of the best stories the _Quibbler_'s ever seen."

"I dare say you will - both the most fantastic and the most accurate."

"Exactly. There was that, and I got to wondering why you thought the rains of fish and whatnot sounded familiar when I mentioned them."

"It's been, what, two years for you and you're still wondering? Temple and Arch, you are tenacious."

"Blame my House, if you like."

Regulus snorted. "That doesn't always have anything to do with individuals. Anyway, Professor Device's family was in the habit of working with a book of prophecies one of their ancestors wrote. I was mostly amused that the old bat had been right after all."

"But you weren't surprised?"

"She'd been right about everything _else_, that I knew of. Even if people sometimes didn't work it out until after the fact."

They ended up talking for at least an hour before Regulus got around to packing up his things. Luna, it seemed, had found a fair amount to keep herself occupied, even before she got as far as the library. This hardly surprised Regulus, but hearing about it from a perspective that wasn't his own or native to London Below was still interesting.

"Where are you off to?" she asked, after he had finished packing.

"A friend offered to let me stay at her place, once she worked out a way for me to get in. You could probably come along, if you'd like. I think Door would like you."

"...Not right now, I don't think. There's just so much to read, and if you trusted it enough to stay here until you got another offer, this must be a relatively safe place."

"Fair enough. If you ever stop reading, let me know, and I'll see what I can work out."

Luna smiled. "Thank you. I'll be sure to keep that in mind."

She turned back to the book she had been reading, and Regulus headed back out. At least it had been the one of the kids who actually thought things through to venture Below; Luna would more than likely thrive where he could picture Harry or Ron or even Hermione floundering.

He was going to have to remember to talk to her more often, now that the opportunity was there.


End file.
